Bad Drugs

I literally have no clue what I’m doing or what the purpose of my life is… not anymore, at least. Sometimes, I feel like I took a bad drug and my life experiences are the result of me just going completely insane. I don’t really smile anymore, not the way I used to at least when my dad would make his infamous chocolate cake. I was addicted to it, like a bad drug. Now I wake up, knowing that I’ll never be able to look forward to those moments again. My dad took bad drugs… and bad drugs took him.

Bad drugs tend to take a lot from people and give nothing back, except feelings and memories that you love so much, you would do anything to have them again. I withdrew a lot after my dad left me because I was attached to him, like a bad drug. I guess I just would have never expected my dad to leave me, just like I would have never expected him to even think to take a bad drug. I knew that I had been busy lately, trying to figure my own life out, but I thought that he could wait. I guess I was wrong. Maybe he craved the love and the attention that I had given him so freely when I was a little girl, like a bad drug, and maybe since I wasn’t there for him, he took bad drugs… and bad drugs took him.

I’ve tried every bakery in town since my dad has been gone and I’ve ordered the same thing in every one of them. “One slice of chocolate cake please”, I would tell the waitress. I’ve tried every slice of chocolate cake in town and none of them gave me butterflies in my stomach, from the joy of the moist, sweet, soft, chocolate center, perfectly layered in sweet, thick, chocolate, cream cheese icing, the way my dads did. So I searched everywhere, craving to have that feeling just one more time, like a bad drug. Instead, I gained fifteen pounds … and a bad stomach ache. I literally have no clue what I’m doing or what the purpose of my life is… not anymore, at least.

I sit and think about what the purpose of my dads life was, if it only led him to die from bad drugs. I sit and think and all that I could come up with is that you shouldn’t take bad drugs. I also noticed that I was surrounded by bad drugs myself; things that I knew were bad for me, but I craved them anyway. I sit and think about what I wish my dad had done differently and I wished that he had never taken bad drugs… and I wished that bad drugs had never taken him. While I knew that I couldn’t change his life, I realized that I could change my own. I knew that I had to get rid of the bad drugs in my life, so I made a list of them. The list of bad drugs in my life read as follows:

Number One. My toxic boyfriend, whose love I craved although he had belittled me in many ways. I craved his love, like a bad drug, because I needed his validation that I was worth loving.

I knew that lack of self worth could kill me, like a bad drug.

Number Two. Accepting being surrounded by family who wanted me to be great, but not better than them. I craved their presence, like a bad drug, because it’s what I was used to.

I knew that conformity could kill me, like a bad drug.

Number Three. The friends that I had, who constantly compared their own appearance and their own life to mine. I craved them, like a bad drug, because I feared being lonely.

I knew that fear could kill me, like a bad drug.

Number Four. Chocolate Cake. I craved it, like a bad drug, because I didn’t want to accept that my dad was no longer with me. I needed to feel as though I had a little piece of him left with me, but he was gone… and I realized that it wasn’t a piece of my dad, it was just a slice of chocolate cake.

I knew that not accepting the things that I could not change could kill me, like a bad drug.

I literally have no clue what I’m doing or what the purpose of my life is… not anymore, at least. But I think I’ll start by not taking bad drugs.